Tides of Midnight
by featheredschist
Summary: Tony Stark and Bruce Banner have a mysterious connection. Will it save them from lives lived in darkness or doom them? Warnings: M/M-Slash, angels, wing!fic, soul bond, angst, romance, hurt/comfort, violence
1. Chapter 1

Tides of Midnight Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Do not own, just playing around

Warnings/Tags: Wing!fic, M/M (Slash), romance, angst, h/c, soul bond, angels

* * *

Running from the military was hard on him. There was no rest, no recovery. Just, change after change, transformation after transformation, sapping away at his strength.

He hasn't been able to stop running long enough to eat, and had discovered that his new "friend" required easily twice as much food as he'd been used to. Unfortunately, a lack of money, plus minimal access to civilization meant he'd had to learn, quickly, how to live off the land. He was grateful that his new state of being meant he was less prone to catching diseases and getting sick. The feathers had thrown him for a loop. After each transformation, he always found green, gray, or black feathers on the ground. He had no idea what it meant, but tried to keep a few after each change, to hopefully run some experiments on later.

He felt drawn to California. The creature made significant headway, moving across the mountains. Military scouts forced him into Mexico, leaping the border in an unoccupied part of Arizona. Once there, he traveled south into the jungle, trying to get distance before he was too weak to keep going.

He was profoundly grateful for the ability to absorb new languages. Less than a week, and he spoke like a native no matter where he ended up. It enabled him to move around without attracting too much attention. Having a deep bronze tan and dark, curly brown hair aided Bruce in being invisible as he evaded capture.

Living in a shanty town, he was able to disappear adequately enough to lose his pursuers. He found work in a factory, repairing machinery, and lost himself to the endless drudgery.

Back in California, another, more well off man was attempting to recover from a severe illness that none of the best doctors and naturopaths could determine source or cause of. It was a good 6 months before the symptoms lessened enough to allow him to get out of bed longer than a couple hours at a time.

He took one trip, south into Arizona, searching for some kind of medicine or palliative. He spent 2 months there, attempting to relax and recover. The hot springs were a frequent choice for relief.

When he returned to his Southern California home, he was at least able to get back to work at his multi-billion dollar company.

The desire to travel was easily sublimated as he lost himself in the new weapons requested by the Army. The briefing he and Obie had received had hinted at some kind of feral monster. He'd laughed at the time, but oddly, his dreams had taken on a particular green and angry flavor. He dismissed it as related to his illness and ignored it like the rest.

Both men were unaware of how things would change, in just over a year's time.


	2. Chapter 2

Tides of Midnight Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Do not own, just playing in the sandbox.

* * *

Tony wanted to go back to Arizona. He'd felt better there.

But he soldiered on, creating new designs to satisfy his greedy board, and Obadiah Stane. Holdovers from his father's tenure, the old bastards had such strong hooks in the company, Tony would never be rid of them until they died. And with his luck, they secretly used the Super Soldier Serum as aperitifs every night.

He arrived at Obadiah's office, only to groan when he discovered the meeting he'd tried to avoid was in full swing. Swearing under his breath, he pushed open the door, trying not to project the 'misbehaving child' attitude too much.

"Obie, I'm going on vacation," Tony said, interrupting the flow of the meeting without a single care.

"Ah, there you are," Stane drawled from behind the monster desk that squatted in his office, "Nice of you to join us Tony." The monstrosity was supposed to intimidate, but Tony figured it only worked on interns.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, I'm leaving whether you care or not," Tony was trying not to get angry. Stane had a way of getting under his skin in very short order.

Stane looked at the R&D team seated in front of him, the four men trying not to catch either man's attention. "Beat it," he growled, pointing at the door Tony was standing in.

The four scrambled to obey, no one wanted to get in the middle of yet another territorial dispute between the two heads of the company.

Tony took a moment to stop one of the developers, giving him the flash drive he'd had in his pocket, that was the reason for the meeting in the first place. At least they'd be able to get something done, instead of having wasted their day waiting on him.

"Well, seeing as how you are holding the company over a barrel, Anthony, I don't see how I can stop you. Take that assistant with you, though, all right? She's going to help you coordinate long distance," Stane said tonelessly. Things had gotten harder since Tony had taken ill. It was worse since none of the professionals they'd hired could figure out what was wrong, and Tony got well enough to function again. It looked as though Tony was having a relapse, and Stane was contemplating changing his plans again.

"I'll contact you when I get where I'm going," Tony said, getting ready to turn back out of the office.

"Where are you heading this time?" Stane asked, rubbing his forehead to try and alleviate the headache that was growing, now that Tony wouldn't be so easily on hand again.

"South America somewhere. Maybe Belize, or Costa Rica. I'll decide when I leave," Tony said, waving a hand in dismissal. He really didn't want to have to give up all the details, when he barely knew them himself. "I'll keep working on the latest Army request, those "Hulkbusters" or whatever Ross called them." Tony offered.

"Fine, Anthony. Call in once in awhile, hm?" Stane requested, though Tony knew it was more an order.

Tony nodded, and left Stane alone. When the door clicked shut, Stane turned to his computer, and entered a password to a separate server, opening up several private files. He spent the rest of his day pouring over those files, working out in his head the best way to get the last Stark out of Stark Industries.

* * *

Deep in the Amazon jungle, Bruce was attempting to gather enough food to last him a few days as he followed the river in search of work. It had taken him a month to adjust to the climate, and unfiltered water, but only 2 weeks gain a handle on at least 4 of the native dialects. He had less grasp of Portuguese, only because he tended to avoid the larger cities where it was more necessary.

Bruce wanted to reach the coast, and maybe find a ship heading overseas to Africa or Asia. He thought maybe he'd catch a break on the Army's persistence if he was that much further away.

The twisted twine net he'd made bulged with fruit and root vegetables. He'd already gone through the meager store of dried meat, and considered his hunting skills subpar yet to keep him steadily supplied with animal proteins. He also disliked wasting so much of the process. He just couldn't afford to stay in one place long enough. His control wasn't that good, yet.

He wandered the jungle path, grateful for whatever he'd become that kept predators away from him. His thoughts were circular, how to control the beast, and how to stay ahead of Ross and his squads of hunters.

It was several more hours of semi-aimless wandering before Bruce started seeing early signs of a small town. He thought he could trade manual labor for meat, and instead of skirting the town, he wandered directly inside.


End file.
